


You're Plenty Special

by Magariel



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, main akechi/ryuji rest are minor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magariel/pseuds/Magariel
Summary: They find Akechi alive, filled with self-loathing and a wish for death, but the Phantom Thieves are quick to forgive despite their burning anger against corruption.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> rare pairs are nice. 
> 
> This is more of an experimental piece so sorry if gets a bit confusing! I don't write many fics in general. all potentially triggering things are in the tags so watch out if you're bothered by those topics.

He doesn't understand why it has to be him.

A text in the middle of the night, and Akira's icon appears. Ryuji blinks against the harsh back light. He thinks it's gonna be a rad sleep over full of Leblanc's rocking curry and video games, but when he arrives there's one formerly murderous detective tucked away in Akira's bed. 

_What the fuck man_.

A sheepish smile , and then what he's learned to call the ' _cunning joker-smirk_ ' - "can you watch him for me?" and ryuji is about to say _hell no_ , until akira pulls the best friend card - "I'm trusting you as my best friend. Iwai called me on some urgent business and I have to pull through. Ramens on me next time."

How the fuck is he supposed to say no to that?

Akira is lucky he's such a nice guy.

It's not like he hates Akechi, not anymore at least, but it's still unnerving.

Change that to fucking terrifying when the detective screams in his sleep like he's being gored.

"Wake up!" and he should have known better than to put his hands on Akechi because there's a pair of hands around his throat, and he's choking,( thanks a lot Akira). It's not like nightmares are unfamiliar to Ryuji, he should have expected this, but this is still a shitty way to go - and then suddenly sweet, sweet air.

"Don't touch me," the brunette hisses, face contorted in fury. He looks like he might finish the job of squeezing the living hell out of him just for old time's sake.

"Geez! I was tryna help!" His voice is raspy and he rubs at his throat.

At least Akechi has the decency to look mildly guilty, even though he doesn't apologize. He collapses into bed again, turns towards the windows and remains motionless.

Talk about awkward.

"You wanna talk about it or something?" he offers, and it's a bit weird but he can hear the deep, quick breaths of Akechi like he's grappling with any form of self control. From calm and composed detective, to a kid about to break down. Ryuji thinks about all those times he dreamt of his father beating his mom as he watched helplessly.

His fingers twitch and he resists the urge of clasping the detective's shoulder in camaraderie. His tongue readies a joke, before he pulls the words back. Though he knows he's not the smart one, there's something telling him that none of what he was used to doing would work. 

"When I was younger my mom used to make me warm milk, do you want me to make you some? I'm sure there's some in the kitchen."

Silence.

"I use to dream about my father killing me and then I watched as ghost as he killed my mother too."

"Did he fuck you too?"

"What?!" and Ryuji pauses, neck twisting in whiplash.

"For my eleventh birthday my foster father fucked me and my foster mother beat me afterwards for "stealing" her husband. Just thought you should know since we're sharing and all."

Ryuji winces, and he's rarely short on words, but he doesn't have any right now. 

"Now, would you kindly go away? I'll smile and say good morning tomorrow, I don't need your pity _or_ company tonight."

Ryuji doesn't doubt a single world, not when it's delivered with such raw anger and hurt. He silently refuses to go anywhere, if tough words and painful pasts could scare him away, he would have ran away from the Phantom Thieves ages ago.

"Sorry, but you're stuck with me. I prefer you yelling anyways. When you're all like " _good morning,_ " and " _what a pleasant day,_ " I just want to punch you in your perfect face. So go on, let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."

It must be an honest night, or Akechi's tired from being brought back on the brink of death because it's so quiet, he almost misses it.

"I want to die. Why didn't you let me die?"

"Cause you're one of us." 

Akechi freezes at the lack of hesitation, curls inwards like a beaten dog and doesn't utter a noise for the rest of the night.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves discuss the fate of Akechi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm incapable of writing long chapters ;_; thank you for the kudos & comments.

He bites his knuckles and tastes the familiar tang of blood.

Akechi wonders if the phantom thieves know the weight of their words.

He sincerely doubts it, considering how they  don't seem to notice all that they stole from him. His convictions, his world view, his _purpose_. 

 _One of them_ , they say.

He still feels the recoil of the bullet lodged in Akira's skull. Now he feels the warmth of Ryuji's flesh between his fingertips. Each one of them offered their forgiveness, and time and time again it seemed they had more.

He remembers the pain of being shot, the smell of his own burnt flesh and Makoto yelling to bring him into Mementos. Zoro's healing and Johanna's too washing over every wound (silly, really, considering they would never reach the ones that mattered). He understands they spent hours knitting his flesh back together. What he doesn't understand is _why_. 

What do they want from him? His fame no longer exists - he has nothing left to give. The world gives nothing for free, it was only a matter of time before their greedy little hands claw for something he doesn't have available to give.

His teeth sink further into his hand, fighting his rapid breaths. 

He peers over at Ryuji, asleep on the couch, lit only by the moonlight through shabby attic windows and childish glow-in-the dark star stickers scattered across the ceiling. 

It would be easy to kill him and escape, but he finds his thoughts stray towards the sturdiness of the attic beams. Would the thin bed sheets snap his neck, or slowly drain his breath like it did to his mother when she hung herself from the shame of his birth? He traces the blue veins against his wrist and trails his nails across his throats before he succumbs to sleep.

 

Ryuji awakens to a sore back, semi twisted from crashing on the couch, Akira gently shaking him awake, his finger held to his lip as he points to the slumbering boy in his bed. Ryuji nodding, wordlessly trails behind his friend.

The Phantom Thieves fill the ground floor of the cafe, Sojiro giving him a nod before leaving the shop.

"So," Makoto speaks, "I've been thinking about it, but what are we going to do about Akechi?" 

Ann twists her hair, shoulders dropping as she sighs, "It feels wrong if we just give him up to the police."

Haru's knuckles go white, the death of her father still fresh in her mind. 

"Indeed. I doubt he would survive in prison, but I hesitate leaving him here with you, Akira."

"He's like the boss fight guy who joins you after you defeat him! We can't just let him die!"

Haru finally speaks, a prominent frown on her face, "Though I have thought about putting my axe in him, I think enough people have died."

The volume in the cafe begins to rise, higher and higher - until in unison all heads turn to their leader, "Akira?"

He's pouring coffee, and cooking curry at the same time, it's all the more impressive when he doesn't miss a beat - "Let Ryuji decide."

What the fuck man, way to put him on the spot again.

The shrill laughter of Morgana fills the room, "Funny joke Akira, Ryuji can't make a plan."

"I can too!"

"Well then let's hear it then!"

"I uh-"

"Hah! I told you!"

"Shut up! I just know we shouldn't leave him alone. He said he wanted to die last night! I'm kinda worried."

The room becomes silent. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but every pair of eyes stare behind him. Following their gazes, upon the rickety stairs, is the one and only Goro Akechi.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Sorry I took so long folks! I just finished Persona 5 the ending was very touching!! I was so disappointed that Akechi seemed to vanish from everyone's minds even the Phantom Thieves! How do you guys feel about the ending?
> 
> On another note next chapter we get a psuedo-double date with Ann & Shiho ! Sorry if this doesn't seem Ryuji & Akechi centric but I truly believe that it would take the entirety of the Phantom Thieves to ease Akechi's suffering. Also I also want to honor the bond between Akira and Akechi because there's no doubt Akira is who Akechi initially felt closest too. Thank you for all the kudos, reads, and comments!

"I understand my presence is causing quite a bit of trouble. I'll see myself out." Plastered upon Akechi's face is that sweet smile, the very one that his fans adored. True to his words on the previous night, the former detective appeared in perfect form as if a couple days ago he was not shoulder to shoulder with death, crimson blood blooming across the pavement.

It's so fucking fake, is the first thought in Ryuji's head.  
I hate it, is the second.

Forget perfection, forget manners - Ryuji sees it, the wrinkle in his jacket, the tired darkness beneath his eyes, and the tremble in his hand.

Akira slides the freshly poured cup of coffee straight towards Akechi. 

"It has two milks, three teaspoons of sugar"

"I always take my coffee with one teaspoon of sugar,"

"Yeah, I know, but you don't like it. You prefer it sweeter than Makoto's but more bitter than Ryuji's."

They stare at each other. Inner wild card flaring, fighting, understanding.

Akechi accepts the cup of coffee.

Akira looks smug.

Despite Akechi's declaration of leaving, he sits and stares into the cup. The room is silent.

"So... Did you hear us?" Ryuji breaks the silence.

"Yes."

"What do you want to do?" Akira challenges.

Akechi looks uncomfortable with the option of choice. To avoid speaking, he brings the cup to his lips, dried and cracked for a sip. His shaking hands slosh the liquid, leather gloves absorbing the hot liquid.

"You can stay with Ryuji" Akira offers

"Dude! Why are you always volunteering me? You know I can't!"

"Your Mom works the night shifts right? He can stay at night and in the morning we'll figure it out."

"But your room is empty most of the time why can't he stay with you?"

Akira clears his throat, grey eyes flicking sideways. Ryuji follows the motion and he stares at Akechi.

He has a blank look on his face, eyes glazed to a far away place. He leaves the soak glove on his hand, and stays still even though the coffee must surely be scorching his hand. The world tuned out - how many times had he done this?

Ryuji knows he's not the smartest of the group. He's even the slowest to get plans, he understands next to nothing when it comes to the metaverse, but this, Ryuji gets it. 

Akechi cannot be alone. Not now when Death tantalizes with soft knocks upon the door, and promises of peaceful sleep, absent pain. 

Akechi has the same looks on his face that echoes his own the day after Kamoshida broke his leg. He often wondered how he would turn out if it weren't for his mom, and later the phantom thieves.

He supposes he would be very much like the boy in front of him.

"Okay, but I'll need help," Ryuji admits.

Almost immediately Ann pipes up. 

"Tomorrow morning I'm going to a buffet with Shiho. You two can come with us!" 

Akechi's eyes betray him. Confusion within, despite his composed stature. "What?-" He blinks rapidly twice, but it only takes a second to recover, "then I suppose I leave my fate in your hands." 

His broken smile suggests an expectancy of hurt and lies.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands and apples make for unique conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: past rape mentioned!

 

> GROUPS OF 4 -50% OFF BUFFET

Ryuji stares at Ann. Her hand still entwined with Shiho's, she just grins. 

Are her intentions ever pure?

With drinks on the way, Ann stands up, grasping Ryuji by the arm in a vice death grip, "C'mon I need you to carry plates for me! I need to get at least one of everything!"

He protests, flailing about, when they're a distance away he finally manages to breaks her hold, "What's the big idea? You really want to leave Shiho with Akechi?" 

Her eyes blink once, twice, before she straight out laughs. "I doubt he'd try anything, he's been rolling an apple on the table for the last fifteen minutes. Besides Shiho's got a mean right hook if anything happens. I taught her myself!" She flexes her arm proudly, tone built from whipping the life out of creatures they barely understood. 

Ah. 

Ryuji changes his opinion, and hopes Akechi behaves himself for his own sake.

 

 

 "Akechi," 

He ignores the Shiho in favor of rolling the red apple, it reminds him vaguely of a bleeding skull. There were plenty of times he had a single apple for lunch, but now he couldn't even muster the strength to eat one. 

"You have beautiful hands,"

He freezes, squeezing the apple tightly, denting its perfect peel. It's not uncommon at all for people to compliment his appearance. Fans, his tailor, those who worked at the TV station, his foster father whispering in his ear, breath hot behind him as his hands slipped between his thighs- you're so pretty Akechi, your hair, and your soft lips, beautiful like your mother was. Don't say anything to anyone. I'll buy you that toy you wanted tomorrow for your birthday, just be a good boy.

The apple clatters to the ground rolling far away. It's bruised now, imperfect, not even worth going after now.

He stares at his hands, finally realizing he's not wearing his gloves. (Was he so tired he couldn't even manage his own wardrobe?) It's far from beautiful, he thinks, pale and thin with old burns and indents from a time where he bit into his own knuckles. Yet, of the many compliments, no one had ever even mentioned his hands. He finally lifts his head from the table and stares at the girl, "Are you patronizing me?" One sentence and he can feel his anger building. What did she hope to gain by antagonizing him?

She smiles, Akechi sneers and wonders if she'd keep that vile expression if he dug his thumbs into her eyes.

"It shows you're alive."

She places her own hands on the table. One of her fingers are bent slightly to the side, on another finger, the nail is chipped and broken, there are indents in her hands as well, scarred over. 

It takes only a moment for Akechi to understand. "Kamoshida-"

She nods, a different kind of smile, a little sad, a little relieved. "I have so many injuries from him," she admits.

He expects so considering the cruel training of the volleyball team. What had been labeled as sport injuries was clearly abuse.They were all on their way to death were it not for the Phantom Thieves. 

"Up here too," she taps against her head. He knows the pain of the mind intimately, like constant fresh wounds in your brain, never healing.

"Did he -"

"Yes."

While he was chasing Shidou in his delusions of grandeur and revenge, people who brought suffering in their path were allowed to roam freely. He had protected Shidou, allowed him to worm his way up to the top, all so he could bring it all down and crush him beneath his own weight. How many people did they step on to get that far?  How many people did _he_ step on?

It was clear they trampled Shiho.

It brought him to the same question. Why was he alive? Why didn't they let him die? A poor atonement, surely, but it would be poetic justice - killed by himself , a slow death of bleeding out, -

Shiho holds his hands as his internal thoughts are broken.

"I'm sorry you had to go through it alone,"

"Why are you apologizing?" his voice low and harsh, tugging his hands away.

She doesn't allow him to get go, her hands strong in ways his never were, grip tight. 

"We went to school together and I never helped you,"

"I never helped you!" He tugs harder, frantic like her honesty burns and the kindness is poisoning him. "I had the law on my side, and the prestige of an adult, the influence - and I never helped a single person!" Of all the people that hated him, he was secure in the fact that he hated himself the most. 

"But you didn't," she starts.

The fight in him dies. Yes, he didn't help anyone. Instead he empowered the man whose sick ideals only fueled others in following his footsteps. 

" - have the influence you thought you had. You were being used too," she finishes, finally releasing him. "It's hard being something you're not."

"That's the only way to survive," 

She smiles at him again, but this time he wants to dig his thumbs into his own eyes.

"Let them help you live,"

He wants to ask her what the hell that means, but the two Phantom Thieves are back, carrying an unholy amount of food. 

"Shiho, look what's I got!" Ann nearly sings, placing a heart shaped strawberry cake between them. In Shiho's eyes, Akechi sees a fire grow a little a brighter at the sight of Ann. Perhaps it was Carmen's flames infecting the two of them, but he suspects the two built the raging fire on their own. They press together in the booth seat sharing soft laughter, the cake, and quiet whispers. 

 

"Dude where'd your apple go?" Ryuji asks bending down to look beneath the table and lifting up napkins as if an apple could conceal itself.

What an odd thing to notice. "I lost it," 

Ryuji shrugs, "Here you can have the one I got by the fruits." He pulls out another apple from his pocket and rolls it towards him. 

"It's scratched."

Another shrug, "It still looks great to me." He finally slips into the seat besides Akechi, shoving a plate of food at him. "Here, no spicy things cause you hate that, and protein, cause you look like shit dude."

Akechi would be offended, but these days it's hard to be insulted by pure honesty. He's more offended by the fact that someone recalled his preferences. It's unfair to create the illusion of care, "I don't want it -"

Across the table Ann steals food off her girlfriend's plate, Shiho takes the moment to stare him straight in the eyes.

He feels small in her quiet power not granted by false gods and madness, but by her own will.

"Thank you," he amends, and eats. Ryuji pats him on the back, and in silence he wonders how the thoughtless boy even remembered.

 

 

Ann and Shiho disappear into a speck as they board a different train home. 

Akechi follows Ryuji, onto their own, and they're lucky enough to catch two seats side by side. 

"Sooo what did you and Shiho talk about?" As an after thought Ryuji figures he shouldn't ask, but his curiosity wins out. Akechi had been quiet, but more amendable then usual. It was pleasant, but his silence was worrying. 

"Hands."

"Hands?"

"Yes, hands."

Ryuji's face twists in annoyance, "If you didn't want to tell me you could have just said so." 

Absentmindedly, Akechi suddenly takes his hands in his own, staring at it, a million gears in his brain spinning.

He runs his hands over the pads of Ryuj's fingers and over his knuckles wondering if he can discern the past as easily as Shiho could. He notices the callus on the flesh between his thumb and index finger, probably from gripping his weapon in the metaverse too tightly. There are careless scratches too, likely from a knock against the corner of a table, an old scrape from catching himself before falling directly on his face from a run. They're weathered, and tough. For someone who gives off an air of laziness, this oddly suggests the opposite.

 

Ryuji is surprised to find Akechi's hand is not covered in smooth skin. He always figured the boy looked so soft with his perfect skin and styled hair. Anyone with eyes could see Akechi took his role of _prince_ down to the details. He had that untouchable, other- worldy prettiness like Yusuke, and that unexpected cuteness like Akira, but Akechi is neither and he'd do well to remember that. He realizes he's never seen him with gloves off, much less touched his bare hands. His face heats, but he doesn't want to disturb his companion, not while he looks so focused and more like himself than the last few days. 

 

Ryuji figures something must be stuck in his throat as he remains wordless to Akechi holding his hand in a very busy train where anyone can see. The redness in his face reaches his ears as a girl giggles and whispers something to her friend throwing a look at the two of them. Akechi, lost in his thoughts doesn't even seem to notice. 

"Dude, c'mon" his voice is strangled, an octave higher. It's not that he minds the hand-holding, no matter how awkward it may be. There's only so much stares he can take before he gets self-conscious. Akechi seems confused before he realizes and drops his hands, folding his own back towards himself.

"Apologies."

"It's fine, that was just kinda - you know,"

Akechi does know; he had done nothing to earn such familiarity. It would not be a mistake he would repeat.

"I just don't like when people stare. You can look at whatever you were looking at when we get back to my place," Ryuji fidgets in his seat. There's that look of confusion again written across the former detective's face, like he can't believe all the faults in the world aren't directly linked to him.

Ryuji wants to say a little more; the train pulls into their stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen Ryuji canonly says Akira is cute and Yusuke is pretty. I'd like to think that he thinks Akechi is both. Also Shiho is a gem.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late nights are for deep talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I have no excuse I just fandom jumped a bunch, but here is an update cause I was thinking about P5 and was like, oh man I had a fic I was actually enjoying writing. Anyways this is not an April Fool's joke. Next chapter is Hifumi & Makoto.

Ryuji tries to fool himself into thinking this isn't weird. _It's like a sleepover_  he says to himself, except it's still weird cause it's a sleepover with Akechi. He can't tell if the guy is actually awake or not, he makes like _zero_ noises. Even Akira shifts around looking for the cold spot of the pillow during sleepovers, and that guy's silent as a cat. Right now, he can't even tell if Akechi is breathing.

He looks up at his ceiling, white plaster chipping, thinking about the day. It was _weird_. From that odd lunch, to (man, he really doesn't want to say it.) holding Akechi's hand. It wasn't  _bad_  just  _strange._

Maybe a couple of months ago it'd be weird cause Akechi's a guy and all, but Ryuji has eyes and he's seen Akira in his Joker outfit, and Yusuke in the sunlight when he gets up early to paint, and now he's seen Akechi focused, pretty features at ease like his body remembers how to be an infallible detective even if he himself doesn't. No, it's not the guy thing cause he got over that around the first week of being a Phantom Thief. All his friends are unfairly beautiful and that's just the facts.

So what was weird about it?

A voice startles him out of his thoughts, "Ryuji -"

He makes a faint acknowledging sound waiting for Akechi to continue.

"Never mind."

Ryuji scowls in frustration, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop it, "You know what I hate about you?"

Akechi visibly stiffens, a meek voice, "Everything?"

"Everything? What? No!" God, that's so sad. Does Akechi even know how sad that sounds? "I hate that you never say what you want. Why do you gotta filter yourself through like a thousand things? Just ... say what you want, geez," the air comes out of his lungs in a tired exhale. 

"Oh."

"Yeah."

He's silent, as if contemplating if he should really say what he was thinking.

"Ryuji, did you know Shiho has really strong hands?"

Ryuji can't help it, he bursts out laughing.

This conversation feels far too normal, like it's one of his friends waking up from some daze with a weird comment in the middle of the night because their mind's all hazy, and all the funny thoughts come out at night. 

Ryuji listens to the tone of his voice. Akechi is definitely not awake, not fully at least. He never pegged the guy to ramble in his sleep, but Akechi was always thinking so much, he figured all his thoughts must come out in this way. He really ought to let Akechi get back to sleep, but this is a little too funny. So instead, he pulls out his phone and starts recording.

"Man, I don't know? I guess? She played a lot of volleyball so yeah, that makes sense," he replies wondering if Akechi will reply or slip back into unconsciousness. 

"No, you don't understand Ryuji."

Ryuji stifles his laughter again. He sounds so distressed over something so small.

"What man? What am I not getting." 

"I rock climb."

"Uh? Yeah, okay that's cool. What does that have to do with anything?"

"How's her grip stronger than mine?" he whispers.

That is a little terrifying, if Ryuji is being honest.

He replies with a "I don't know?" because at this point he really doesn't. 

"Do you think its because she holds Ann's hand a lot?"

Nothing can stifle his laugh this time. "Yeah, probably. She's got the iron grip cause all she does is hold her girlfriend's hand," it's a joke but thinking about it, Shiho is always holding onto someone these days. "Actually, she holds a lot of people's hands. I see her dragging Mishima around, sometimes she drags me around too."

Akechi pauses. Was that it then? Was she strong because when she gripped, someone else gripped back? When she let go, how many people kept holding onto her? A bit of jealously wells up, but sorrow does too. When he let go of his sanity no one held on to him. No one even watched him fall.

"It's not that big of a deal," Ryuji shrugs, "No time like the present to start grabbing on."

Does Ryuji know the weight of his own words? He says things like this all the time, as if it's simply just facts. Akechi remembers what he had said to him right before Akechi resigned himself to his death. _"Dude, you're more than special."_

Akechi knows he is a series of fractures and shards, glue together haphazardly. All the beatings, the torture, the violation — that had added to his fragile state, but Ryuji was breaking him with words that he didn't even seem to know he was saying.

"I don't understand why you're so nice to me," and he's so, so tired, eyes slipping shut once again.

Ryuji is about to say something back, but he can finally hear Akechi's breathing and he seems to have shifted in the make-shift bed on the floor so that he can actually see his face. Dark lashes brush downwards, finally indicating sleep. 

Akechi really isn't so scary like this, not when he crunches up like he's afraid to take too much space. The shades are always closed in Ryuji's room due to some old childish fear that some face will pop up in the middle of the night, but he really wishes the curtains were pulled back, just for a bit of moonlight so he could really see Akechi looked without those sharp, tired eyes digging back into him. 

He falls asleep as well, lingering on that thought.  



End file.
